


Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la

by fakebodies



Series: Roleswap AU [1]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, I FUCKIN LOVE IT, M/M, Roleswap, Roleswap AU, Sorry Not Sorry, This is so dark, i fuckin lied, i made myself upset writing the conclusion to this thing, its starting to get less dark, this au is literally one of my favorite things, this got dark and im not sorry, yall can suffer with me lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 11,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5986360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakebodies/pseuds/fakebodies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boba was taken from Kamino as a young child to be trained much the way Maul was. Anakin never left Tatooine to join the Jedi, instead becoming a bounty hunter. When someone inevitably takes out a bounty on one of the Empire's most dangerous agents, Vader and Jango are assigned to take the man out. Neither of them know the man beneath the crude approximation of Beskar'gam is Boba Fett.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oyayc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jango and Vader have gotten Boba back on the ship and trapped him in a holding cell. Neither of them know just what to do...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter title means "alive" in Mando'a

Vader takes care of Boba while he’s in the cell. He knows this is hard for Jango, seeing his son this warped. Jango can barely stand to look at the scar-covered man, so Vader does it for him. He brings Boba meals, talks with him, checks his health, and every time he does he gives Jango updates. Jango thanks him each time, although there’s never much of a difference and the “thank yous” start to sound more and more emotionless.

Vader is wandering the ship one night when he hears noises coming from the holding cells. He checks in on Boba, surprised to see the man asleep, clutching at the blanket on his cot and whimpering in Mando’a.

“Buir! Buir, gedet’ye! Gaa’tayl! Usenye dar’manda!”

Vader rushes to wake Jango, hauling him to the holding cells. When he gets Jango to the cell Boba is just repeating “buir” and “nayc,” trembling under the covers. Vader knows enough Mando’a to tell this isn’t good, especially when he sees Jango start to open the cell door. He stands guard, blaster drawn as Jango kneels next to his son’s bed, smoothing his hand through Boba’s shaggy, sweat-soaked hair.

“Ad’ika, ad’ika, shhh, udesii.” Jango speaks softly, surprised when Boba reaches out to grab his shirt collar, tugging him closer. Jango shifts onto the bed, gathering a still-shaking Boba into his arms, keeping one around his son’s shoulders. He starts to drum out a rhythm on his thigh, softly humming Vode An.

When Boba drifts back to sleep, Jango tucks him in and stands, walking out to the cockpit with Vader.

“Thank you for waking me up.”

“Hey, no problem.” Vader shrugs. “I know how much he means to you, and I know enough Mando’a to understand ‘buir’ means ‘father.’”

“Still. All you’re doing for him after what happened. The people he’s killed…”

“He’s your son, and you’re a good friend to me. I wouldn’t hurt him. Things will work out, Jango, they always do.”

“Of course.”

“Get some sleep, old man.” Vader gently shoves Jango’s shoulder. “Boba’s going to need you at the top of your game.”

Jango rolls his eyes, settling in the copilot’s chair and closing his eyes. Vader sighs softly, leaning back. They were in a whole heap of shit, but they’d get out of it alright. They always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is gonna be updated as often as possible for me, since i love the au and i feel like its far from completion
> 
> (the title is a Mando'a phrase for the departed, meaning "not gone, simply marching far away." I thought it fit well)
> 
> translations: buir means parent; ad'ika means kid but its more affectionate than just ad; gedet'ya means please; gaa'tayl is help; usenye is a harsh version of 'go away' so its like 'fuck off'; dar'manda is someone who isnt mando'ad; udesii is calm down; and vode an is a war chant


	2. Boba

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba's background for this au

The cell is small and cold. There’s a cot up against one wall and a metal door that can’t be opened from the inside. Boba curls up into a ball on the cot, shivering. He’s not allowed to have blankets, instead curling up as tight as he can, tucking his hands into his shirtsleeves. He knows he won’t die from the cold- he’s not allowed to die. The droid told him that the first time his ribs were ever broken, and he reminds himself of that every time he’s hurt.

He’s given breakfast in the morning before being taken for training. The droid tells him they’re trying something new today before the lights shut off. Boba yelps and a blaster shot hits him in the shoulder, sending his small form sprawling. It burns but he knows better than to start crying. Instead he hauls himself to his feet, trying to make out the shape of the droid in the darkness all while looking for cover.

He keeps his footsteps quiet, moving around the room, trying to sense anything that would alert him to the droid’s presence. He climbs up onto one of the structures for hiding, trying to see the droid from above. He has no luck there, and when he tries to climb back down he slips, landing hard on the ground. This time he manages to avoid the shot, charging towards the droid.

The droid fires again, the bolt piercing Boba’s thigh. Boba screws his eyes shut as the lights come up and the droid starts to jab at him, telling him to follow it. He does, limping along as the wound on his leg bleeds. A medical droid takes care of the injuries before he is sent back to his cell. Boba sits on the floor, staring up at the cracks on the ceiling. He won’t be given any more meals after his slip up during training. He never is.

* * *

Boba manages to break a piece of metal off of the underside of his cot one day. He’s much stronger now and it’s rare that the droid bests him. His Master is proud of his improvements. He says Boba will be able to learn in the field soon. Boba’s not sure what that means, but that doesn’t mean he cares enough to ask. His Master didn’t like it when he was anything other than complacent.

He takes the piece of metal and the rock he’d stowed against the corner under the cot, starting to chip away at the rock. He’d been having dreams again, from before the cell. He never remembers much, but he remembers being cared for, and he remembers a person in armor.

Boba works on the carving each night, shaping it to look like the helmet the person in his dreams wears. He’s always careful to hide it away when he starts to get too tired to stay awake, and when he’s deemed ready to move on from his training he asks to be able to design his own armor. His Master is amused, but he allows it. Boba’s grateful for that- he must be doing well if his Master is being generous.

He sketches out a design from fuzzy memories that came only in dreams, proud when it’s presented to him. He likes the new color scheme much better than the one from his dreams, the green and gold are nice together. He’s a sight to see on the field, brutal and unrelenting in his crude approximation of beskar’gam.

* * *

Boba is certain the man is mocking him when he hears the man speak, gesturing towards him. Boba grabs the man’s throat and lifts him from the bar stool, demanding to know what he said.

“Your armor, boy.” the man smirks despite the pressure on his throat. “It’s quite the ugly mess. Trying to be a Mandalorian, are you?”

“I don’t know what that is.” Boba’s voice is emotionless and the man’s reply is cut short when Boba snaps his neck.

He starts to look into Mandalorians, their culture and their language, as well as the planet the hail from. He’s surprised to see the armor they wear looks almost exactly like his. When he asks his Master if he was Mandalorian his Master tells him he was never anything save for a weapon.

The answer is unsatisfying and Boba begins to teach himself Mando’a in his free time. He enjoys speaking it when he is sent to kill, smirking when people stumble over their words, shaking their heads as they plead for forgiveness, telling him that they don’t understand, asking what he’s saying. It’s satisfying.

The anonymity is a comfort to him as well, although he wouldn’t admit that out loud.

* * *

Boba thinks back to his time doing field work for practice. He’d made a friend, once. A woman who slipped in and out of the shadows and seemed to look after him when he would’ve otherwise gotten into trouble. He finds himself smiling whenever he notices her.

One day she speaks to him, asking his name. He tells her the truth- he doesn’t have one. She rolls her eyes.

“Why don’t I believe that?”

“I was just never given one.”

“Hm. So what are you called?” she asks, leaning against a railing.

“‘It,’ or sometimes ‘boy.’”

“Well, ‘boy,’ my name is Zam.” she smiles at him.

“Thank you for helping me, Zam.” he nods politely. She laughs and punches his shoulder lightly.

“Any time, boy.” she glances away when her comlink pings, telling Boba she’ll have to leave. He assures her it isn’t a problem, watching as she melts into the shadows.

Zam had been kind to him, and Boba remembers her fondly. He used to wonder if she would fit the bill of a “buir,” but he’d never been able to find out. When his Master learned of Zam, Boba had been given orders to dispose of her. He did as he was ordered without so much as a second thought. His Master praised him for his skills and devotion to the Empire. Boba felt no pride in what he’d just done.

* * *

When he is taken by the bounty hunters he is sure he’ll be killed. Much to his surprise, he is kept. They trap him in a holding cell, but there are blankets on the cot this time, and he is given three meals a day. He’s suspicious of the kind treatment, but he relaxes more when his helmet is returned to him. Having a layer between him and the outside world is nice.

The helmet is shattered one night after he wakes up screaming, grabbing the thing nearest to him and beating it against the wall until it breaks. He continues to scream, letting the ruined helmet fall to the floor before continuing to beat his fists against the wall, punching as hard as he can until his knuckles bleed.

Boba ignores the bounty hunter that brings him breakfast, staying pressed against the wall, his helmet held against his chest, knees drawn up. The hunter watches him in silence for a moment before sliding the tray of food through the slot in the door and leaving. Boba doesn’t touch the meal, staring blankly at it and shaking slightly. He feels lost without his helmet, trapped in this cell like an animal.

He knows one thing for certain: when he’s released he will kill these two men and he will go home. He will have purpose again, and he won’t feel so lost.


	3. Nuhoy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title means "Sleep"

Jango had taken to checking in on Boba during the night. He’s usually able to soothe Boba back into a peaceful sleep, speaking softly to him in Mando’a. Usually Boba called for help, for his father, and that really should’ve been Jango’s first clue- he wasn’t calling for help tonight.

Boba still tosses and turns, clutching at the sheets as he whimpers. No cries for his father, for the dar’manda to leave, just pained, desperate noises as he thrashes. Vader checks the time as Jango moves to comfort his son. He hadn’t felt the need to be especially watchful recently, Boba was generally easy to handle, allowing Jango to hold him until he lapsed back into unconsciousness.

This time, though, Boba’s eyes shoot open as soon as Jango touches his shoulder. His hand curls around Jango’s neck, snarling as he slams his father’s head back against the metal edge of the cot with as much force as he can muster. Vader curses, hauling Boba away from the unconscious man, taking an elbow to the ribs as Boba fights, even trying to bite Vader’s arm.

He manages to cuff Boba to the leg of the cot, going over to Jango and checking to see how much damages Boba did. There’s a nasty gash in the back of Jango’s head and Vader doubts he’ll wake up any time soon. He carries Jango back to the cockpit, getting the medkit and starting to patch up his friend. He’s starting to think they should just dump Boba on some Outer Rim shithole and leave, that they’re never going to be able to cut through what the Emperor did.

He shouldn’t have let his guard down, thinking back to how he’d sat with Boba and cleaned weapons with him, cursing softly. What if Boba had fucked with their guns while he’d had his guard down? Once Jango’s bandaged up he goes to check all of their weapons- none had been tampered with. Vader lets out a small sigh of relief. That was something, at least.

Before going back to the cockpit he takes a tranquilizer shot and goes to check on the still-struggling Boba. He injects the man, letting him slump back against the wall as the tranquilizer takes effect. He doesn’t feel safe letting the man stay awake right now.

* * *

Vader’s relieved when Jango wakes up the next morning, bringing his friend painkillers and some food. They sit in silence for a while as Jango eats, Vader waiting for the inevitable question. It comes as Jango sets his plate aside, not looking over at the other bounty hunter.

“How is Boba?”

“Unconscious, hopefully.” Vader sighs. “I knocked him out once I made sure you weren’t about to bleed out in the copilot’s seat.”

“…Are we being idiots?”

“Maybe.” Vader shrugs, glancing over at Jango.

“What happens if he never gets better?” Jango closes his eyes, exhausted.

“I guess we either kill him or leave him on some isolated planet to fend for himself.”

Jango gives him a dirty look for that and Vader just shrugs again.

“I’m being realistic, Jango. Do you want him to keep living like he is if we can’t do anything? Besides, if we _do_ let him live Palpatine could track him down. What then? The Emperor isn’t going be kind.”

“You’re right. He’s my son, though. I don’t like the idea of having to kill him.”

“I’ll do it if it comes to that. You don’t deserve to have to take out your own child”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Vader leans back, watching the stars pass.

* * *

The tipping point comes when Boba breaks Jango’s ribs. Vader slams the butt of his blaster against Boba’s head, leaving the man in an unconscious heap. He locks the cell behind him as he moves Jango out into the hall. There’s no way he’s risking moving Jango all the way from the holding cells to the cockpit like this. Instead he brings the medkit to the holding cells, patching Jango up there on the floor.

He sits next to Jango, watching Boba. They can’t keep doing this. It’s not worth it, looking out for Boba when he hasn’t improved in the slightest. There’s nothing they can do, and Vader knows they can’t keep him on the ship for much longer. They need to start taking high profile bounties again, they’re starting to run low on cash, and having only one holding cell isn’t going to cut it.

He’s starting to doubt whether things will really work out this time.


	4. Vader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader's background

As a child, Anakin grew up on Tatooine. He went from living with a Hutt to living with Watto, thankfully still with his mother. He raced pods for Watto until he decided that it would be better for his reputation to stop losing so many races because of a slave boy. When Watto hires a real racer Anakin is left to do the dirty work at Watto’s store.

He looked out for his mother up until the day she died, leaving him alone with Watto. Watto didn’t have the money for a new slave, starting to gamble more. In the end, he loses Anakin. The man who wins him doesn’t want him, but he refuses to return Anakin to Watto. Anakin’s released into the desert to fend for himself agains the Tusken Raiders and the storms.

* * *

Anakin looks at Jango Fett with disdain. He had started going by the name Vader, having begun work as a bounty hunter when he’d made his way to a Hutt’s den in the middle of a sand storm. When he explained his situation to the amused Hutt, Anakin had been given the chance to prove himself as a bounty hunter- surely if he’d survived the sandstorm and Raiders he could handle a simple bounty.

In the end, he did just that.

Now he’s being debriefed by a new client, standing next to the Mandalorian hunter as they’re told the requirements for this bounty. They’ll have to work together to acquire it, the client claiming it was too much for either of them to handle on their own. They’re both offended, but neither of them show it.

As they board Jango’s ship, Jango works silently, ignoring Anakin. He doesn’t mind- he never signed up for a partner. They complete the bounty smoothly, collecting their payment and leaving. Before they part ways, Jango comments that he’s effective. Anakin has a feeling he’ll see Jango again.

* * *

Things go downhill on Mustafar, while he tries to track down a stranded Jedi. Vader had been sure he could handle the lone man, a straggler from the extinct order. Unfortunately, “Ben” Kenobi had been much more than he seemed. Vader had almost lost his life to the fires on Mustafar, lucky that the Jedi couldn’t leave him to burn.

He managed to get onto his ship and send a distress beacon before passing out. When he wakes up, it’s on Jango’s ship, covered in bacta patches and without a leg. He swears loudly before blacking out again, hearing someone chuckle in the background.

* * *

He and Jango become a pretty damn terrifying team. They work cleanly together, often requested for more dangerous bounties. It pays well and the Slave I fits two with ease. Soon enough they’re living together on the ship, easily becoming friends. It’s just another strength for them- no chance of backstabbing during a high-paying bounty.

When a client contacts them about an especially dangerous bounty, one that would strike directly against the Empire, Vader is worried. This could mean hell for them if they’re caught or identified as the hunters after completing the bounty. Jango, however, is determined. He’d never intended for his clones to fall into the hands of a power like the Empire…

The bounty is on the Emperor’s assassin, a man in a strange approximation of beskar’gam. Vader can tell that Jango’s tense- beskar’gam is hugely significant, to see it worn by someone in the Empire has only made Jango more determined to complete this bounty successfully.

The man they’re sent after is a brutal fighter, relentless as he tries to kill the two bounty hunters. Vader manages to knock off the man’s mask, watching as Jango freezes.

“Boba?”

The man, Boba, tries to go for Jango’s neck. Vader manages to knock him out before he can get a hit in, watching as Boba collapses.

“Who is he? What the fuck, Jango?”

“He was my son.”


	5. Demar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demar: "carve, sculpt"

Vader’s surprised when he catches Boba carving one day. He watches Boba chip away at a hunk of plasteel for a couple minutes before the other man notices him, hurriedly shoving the materials under the cot. Vader holds up his hands, shaking his head.

“I won’t hurt you. I just want to know what you’re making.”

“…I’m just carving.”

“Anything special?” Vader keeps his hands where Boba can see them. Boba is anxious, watching Vader like a hawk.

“No. Just something.”

“How long have you been carving?”

“I started…four- no, five…five days. Before I hurt…him.” Boba finally looks away.

“You never tried to hurt Jango with the metal. Where’d you even get that?”

“Under the cot, and no. It’s not for hurting people.” Boba shakes his head, fingers drumming on the floor.

“If I got you better tools and materials for making things, would you use them to hurt me or Jango?” Vader frowns. He’s not sure he wants to trust Boba with anything sharp, but Boba had seemed more calm while working.

“They’d be for carving?”

“Yeah, for carving.”

“Then I wouldn’t use the tools like _that_. They’d be like the metal.”

“If you try anything, I’ll take them away from you. Alright?” Vader waits until Boba nods before leaving, rejoining Jango. Jango hadn’t been back in the cell block since Boba’s last attack. It had been a week and a half and Vader was still making Jango take it easy, the other man’s ribs still far from being healed.

“I talked to him.” Vader leans against the wall. Jango looks up at him but doesn’t say anything. Boba was still a sore topic, Jango was starting to think nothing could be done for his son and he’d stopped talking about Boba at all.

“He likes to carve things. He chipped away a piece of plasteel from the wall and was making  little designs.”

“So?”

“So I’m getting him actual tools, and materials he can actually work with.” Vader shrugs.

“He’ll just attack one of us.”

“Actually, I don’t think he will. I don’t know how he did it but he managed to get a piece of metal off of the cot. He’d been carving with it since a few days before he broke your ribs.”

“And he…”

“Yeah, he didn’t try to stab you with it.”

“I shouldn’t be getting my hopes up, should I?” Jango sighs, smiling tiredly.

“Probably not, but it _is_ a good sign.” Vader shrugs. “Besides, he’s your son. Your son who’s been fucked up by years of being trained by the Emperor. You’re definitely allowed to get your hopes up.”

* * *

It’s a good month after he gets Boba new tools and a supply of clay and Japor wood that Vader actually sees Boba carving again. This time, instead of shoving everything under his bed, Boba holds out the carving to Vader.

“I’m finished.”

“Yeah? Aren’t you gonna keep it?”

“It’s not for me. It’s for him.” Boba shakes his head.

“I’ll give it to Jango for you.” Vader gets down, slipping his hand through the slot at the bottom of the cell door. Boba sets the carved Japor in Vader’s hand, watching him closely as Vader pulls his hand back through and looks at the piece of wood.

“Hey, this is really good. He’ll like this.” Vader smiles, and Boba smiles awkwardly back.

Vader hands the piece of wood to Jango once he gets back to the cockpit, watching as Jango turns the carved piece of wood over in his hands.

“He carved it for you. It looks like your helmet. He has a carving of his old helmet that’s much more jagged and scratched.”

“I’m shit at not getting my hopes up.” Jango tucks the wood carving into his pocket.

“Well, I think it’s a good reason to get them up. He made it for you, after all, and you haven’t worn your armor around him. He must remember something.”

“You’re not helping.” Jango rolls his eyes.

“So what if I’m not helping you keep your hopes down? This is a good sign- a really fucking good sign.” Vader crosses his arms.

“Yeah. You’re right, it is a good sign.”

“Your son’s going to be okay.” Vader nods.

“I sure as shit hope so.” Jango touches the piece of wood in his pocket, sighing softly. He’d do anything for Boba. He should’ve done more before, but at least he has a chance to make things better now. He refuses to let that chance slip away.


	6. Chaab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaab: "fear"

It’s a relief to them both when Boba finally starts to improve. He relaxes more around the two bounty hunters, even sometimes asking them to stay while he eats. Things are looking up enough that Vader starts to let his guard down again. That gets him nowhere good, as it turns out.

He’s pressed against the wall by the shorter man, Boba holding the clay knife up against Vader’s throat. Vader doesn’t try to push Boba off or knock him out, instead opting to try talking to the trembling man.

“Boba, that’s a clay knife. That’s for carving, remember?” he keeps his voice even, meeting Boba’s eyes. Boba’s drops the knife, eyes going wide as he starts to apologize, dropping to his knees.

“Ni ceta, ni ceta, gedet’ye, nayc aaray, ni ceta.” Boba covers his head. Vader steps away, surprised by Boba’s reaction. He starts to say something when Jango cuts in.

“Ad’ika, gar liser udesiir, ga’ti morut’yc.”

“Buir?” Boba looks up, eyes unfocused.

“Elek, ad’ika, k’olar.” Jango opens the cell door, kneeling down in front of his son. Boba nervously lifts his hand to rest it on Jango’s ribcage.

“Ga’ti jahaala?”

“‘Lek.” Jango nods. Boba relaxes, pulling his hand back.

“Ni ceta, buir.”

“Bic cuyi jate, Boba.” Jango smiles tiredly

“tion’ayc ba’slanar?” Boba reaches out to grab Jango’s sleeve and Jango nods. Vader steps around them, squeezing Jango’s shoulder before going out to check on their coordinates. He’s grateful they were able to prevent another attack.

Vader looks over when Jango comes back out of the cell. Hours had passed since Boba had tried to cut his throat with the clay knife and Jango had stepped in to calm Boba down.

“How is he?”

“He’s as alright as he can be.” Jango sighs. “I think I need a drink. I’ll be back.”

Vader nods, waiting while Jango brews himself a mug of shig. Vader smirks when he smells it, knowing Jango’s cut it with some of his tihaar he had stored from their last stop on Manda’yaim.

“Really? Breaking into the tihaar?”

“Don’t start with me, I deserve this.” Jango rolls his eyes, sliding into the copilot’s chair.

“That you do. So, is he gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, he’s calmed down. He’s working on a carving right now, one of the wooden ones.”

“That’s good.” Vader nods. Jango nods as well before sighing, taking a long drink from his mug.

“Is this a step back? Are we- am I just deluding myself trying to help him?”

“No.” Vader shakes his head. “He didn’t even scratch me, and talking calmed him down. This is a big improvement, Jango.”

Jango nods, staring at the shig in his mug, swirling it a little.

“I’m serious. He’s doing much better.”

“i just want him to be alright.”

“I know you do, Jango. You’re a good father.”

Jango scoffs, turning away to stare out of the viewport. Vader goes back to configuring their coordinates. He knows that all they can do is take things one step at a time, as much as Jango wants things to resolve quickly. It’s exhausting, but what can they do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a translations:
> 
> buir: father; ni ceta: a groveling apology, literally “I kneel”; Bic cuyi jate: it’s good; Elek, ‘Lek: “yes” and “yeah” respectively; ga’ti: “you’re”; jahaala: healthy; gedet’ye, nayc aaray: please, no pain; gar liser udesiir: you can relax; k’olar: come here; tion’ayc ba’slanar: essentially “don’t leave?”; ad’ika: kid (affectionate)
> 
> shig is a brewed drink from herbs, similar to tea. It’s often citrusy
> 
> tihaar is a colorless, tripple distilled alcohol made from fruit, it’s very strong and it “often burned the mouth and throat when ingested,” and there was a common Mandalorian joke that it could be used to degrease engine parts


	7. Kadala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kadala: "wounded, hurt"

Vader was worried about letting Boba walk around the ship freely, but he couldn’t deny that keeping Boba locked up probably wasn’t helping. Jango shuts down any suggestions for restraints. Vader worries about Boba hurting himself or one of them, or wrecking the ship, but there’s nothing he can really do except keep an eye on Boba.

The first few days go smoothly, Boba exploring the ship and sticking to the shadows, sometimes avoiding the two bounty hunters. He’ll still join them for meals sometimes, otherwise keeping to himself. Vader doesn’t mind that much, he and Jango don’t pressure Boba into interacting with them.

He’s a little surprised to see Boba place he doesn’t expect, though. Sometimes he’ll be sitting in the cockpit or making himself food when all of a sudden the other man will be behind him. He senses someone watching him while he’s working, looking up at a grate in the ceiling. So, Boba had started moving through the service and ventilation shafts. Had he been sleeping up there?

He gets his answer when Boba comes to him and Jango with a nasty burn on his shoulder, gripping his arm.

“What happened, ad’ika?” Jango frowns, going over to Boba.

“Nothing.” Boba shrugs.

“He was sleeping in the service shaft. Weren’t you?” Vader calls back as he goes to get the medkit.

“Is he right?” Jango’s frown deepens and he gently inspects the burn. It’s nasty, covering Boba’s shoulder.

“It’s good for sleeping.”

“Not really. You rolled into a pipe during the night, right? I wouldn’t call that ‘good for sleeping.’” Vader sets the medkit down and pulls out antiseptic ointment, applying it to the burn,

“It’s safe from attacks.” Boba shrugs again.

“Stop shrugging ad’ika, you’ll make the burn worse.” Jango gets out the batch patches, applying them once Vader finishes with the antiseptic. Before putting the medkit back Vader hands Boba a pair of pills.

“They’re painkillers, you should take them.”

Boba looks at the pills, wary of them. Jango assures him that they’re fine, squeezing Boba’s non-injured shoulder. Boba takes a deep breath and swallows the pills dry.

“They’ll kick in after about half an hour. Don’t stress your injury.” Vader stows the medkit away. Boba thanks them quietly before leaving the cockpit, still holding his injured arm.

* * *

Vader and Jango are both relieved to see that Boba hadn’t picked the bacta patch off when he joins them for dinner. After they’ve eaten and cleaned up, Boba starts to leave for who-knows-where. Vader catches his arm before he can slip away.

“You have to stop sleeping in the service shaft.”

“I don’t want to sleep in the cell.” Boba frowns.

“You don’t have to.” Vader shakes his head. “You can sleep in the copilot’s seat.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“I’ll figure something out, don’t worry about it. You just have to stop sleeping in dangerous places.” Vader releases Boba’s wrist, smiling tiredly. “Besides, the chair’s padded. It’ll feel a lot nicer than cold matrix armor sheets.”

Boba finally nods, going back out to the cockpit and settling into the chair next to Jango’s. Vader ducks his head in to say goodnight before going to hole up in the ‘fresher for the night.

After a few minutes of silence, Jango looks over to Boba.

“Are you happy here, Boba?”

Boba takes a moment to think before nodding. Jango seems to relax when he says that, smiling at him.

“I’m glad. Get some sleep now, alright?”

“Jat’ca.” Boba shifts in the seat so he’s laying on his side, letting his eyes close.

“Jate vercopa’se.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations: jat'ca is goodnight; jate vercopa'se is good dreams


	8. Buy'ce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buy'ce: "helmet"

Boba had never seen Vader without one of his masks. There was the work one- heavier, more durable, able to filter out more things to allow Vader to breathe, and then there was the one he wore on the ship. That mask was lighter and more fitted to his face. It looked a lot less intimidating as well, although the red goggles were always there.

Boba had never been bothered by the scarring on Vader’s face, and the goggles he’d quickly grown accustomed to, but the mask made him anxious sometimes. He liked being able to know people were really talking, to see the full extent of their expressions, and he couldn’t do that with the mask. He wasn’t sure if it was something Vader needed, especially since Boba had never needed his own mask. As much as he wants to ask, he’s really not sure how to.

* * *

Vader smiles a little when he catches Boba staring at his mask. He sets down his tools, walking over to the other man.

“What’s up?”

“What?” Boba frowns, watching Vader warily.

“What’s up? Why do you keep staring at me?”

“Your mask is interesting.”

“Yeah, it really is. It works in almost any climate. What else, though?” Vader shrugs

“Why do you wear it? Jango doesn’t wear his on the ship.”

“Ah, yeah, okay. I wear it because I can’t breathe without it. I had a bounty I couldn’t handle and almost lost my life.”

“You can breathe fine with it on, though?” Boba inspects the mask more closely. The work mask is heavy and black, with two filters. The screen in the bottom of each filter is a light grey, straps coming up to hook over Vader’s ears and wrap around the back of his neck.

“I can.” Vader nods. “Is that all you wanted to know?”

Boba nods, and as Vader turns to go back to his work Boba catches his arm.

“I think you have a nice smile.”

“You’ve never seen it.” Vader finds himself grinning at Boba, amused.

“I can still tell.”

“Thanks, Boba.”

Boba nods, letting Vader return to his work. He’s not sure if he’ll ever see what Vader looks like without his mask on, but Boba doesn’t think he needs to.


	9. Kyrimorut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyrimorut: a stronghold that's separate from most cities on Manda'yaim, a refuge for clones that refused to comply with order 66

They make a stop at Manda’yaim when they next have a break in jobs. They never went to Jango’s home planet, but they’d often stop at Keldabe and Kyrimorut, as well as Enceri. Kyrimorut is their first stop, as always. While Jango says hello to the clones in the settlement Vader stayed with Boba.

Vader looks up when Atin walks over to them, greeting the clone warmly. He feels Boba tense up next to him and gently takes Boba’s hand, squeezing lightly.

“Hey, Atin. How is everything?”

“As fine as can be expected.” Atin shrugs, looking over to Boba. “So, you’re Jango’s boy?”

Boba nods, watching Atin warily. Vader squeezes his hand again, grateful when Boba relaxes slightly.

“I am.”

“I remember some of the older clones talking about you, especially after you disappeared. Jango was crushed when he found you gone.”

“I did not want to go.” Boba frowns.

“Yeah, I know you didn’t. You were only a kid. Two years old, if the others were right. Apparently you used to come watch your father train the troops.” Atin nods, smiling a little.

“I don’t remember.”

“Who would? Nobody remembers when they were that little. It’s good you’re back, though. We’re all relieved. You two have a good night.” Atin nods, leaving for the main vheh’yaim. Boba watches until he disappears inside the building before turning to Vader.

“He looked like Jango.”

“Well, yeah, of course. He’s a clone.” Vader shrugs. “Most of the people here are, now. We always stop to visit them whenever we come back here. Jango cares about them.”

“Are they his children?” Boba frowns.

“What? No, no way. You’re his only kid. Their whole setup is different than yours. The cloners modified their brains and genetics so they’d be better fighters. They didn’t do that to you.” Vader lets the last part slip without thinking and Boba freezes.

“They cloned me?”

Vader winces, nodding. “Yeah.”

“I’m just a copy.”

“No no no no, not at all, you’re definitely not a copy.” Vader shakes his head, reaching out for Boba. Boba pulls back, standing up.

“I am. I’m a clone.”

Boba turns and leaves, Vader letting him walk away. Boba must need space, after learning that…

Instead of following, he goes to find Jango.

* * *

“Ad’ika?” Jango asks as he steps onto the ship, looking around for Boba.

“Don’t call me that.” comes the muffled reply. Boba has managed to fit himself under the controls, between the wall and the pilot’s seat. Jango walks over, kneeling down so he can see Boba.

“You _are_ my child, Boba.”

“I’m a copy.”

“Not to me.” Jango shakes his head.

“It’s the truth. I’m a copy and a weapon.” Boba looks away, pressing further back against the wall beneath the controls.

“That’s not the truth at all. You’re a person, Boba. A Fett, and a damn good one at that. You’re a much stronger man than I am.” Jango rests his hand on Boba’s arm. Boba turns to look at him, studying his face.

“I have more scars than you.”

“You’re taller than me, too.” Jango nods.

“Less muscle.”

“A different fighting style as well.” Jango smiles gently as Boba relaxes. “Does that sound like a copy to you?”

“…Not exactly.”

“Do you know why the clones were made?”

“No.” Boba shakes his head, shifting closer to his father.

“They were soldiers commissioned by the Jedi to fight for them, and later they were used by the Empire. I trained them, and I despise what the Empire has made them do, but they aren’t my sons.”

“And I am?”

“Yes. You were never modified by the Kaminoans, and you were given to me once you were of a healthy size for an infant.”

Boba nods, watching Jango closely as he talks, and Jango gently squeezes Boba’s arm.

“I held you in my arms for the first time and I thought I would burst into tears right there in front of Lama Su and Taun We. Can you believe that? A Mandalorian bounty hunter, crying like a fool.” Jango laughs softly. “I managed to keep myself together enough to avoid _that_ , but not enough to stop grinning at you.”

Boba smiles a little at the thought, finally sliding fully out from his hiding spot.

“When you were taken from Kamino I wen on a rampage, searching everywhere I thought you could’ve been taken to. I never found anything, no sign of you or your kidnapper.” Jango sighs, looking down. “I was terrified you’d been killed, and I started to lose hope.”

Boba frowns, placing his hand over Jango’s. “I’m here, though. I never died.”

“And I thank the gods for that every day. Don’t start doubting how much you mean to me, Boba. You’re my son, and if you ever worry that you’re only a copy, remember that you’re the only clone around who shares the name Fett.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time, ad’ika.”


	10. Uj'alayi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uj'alayi: a Mandalorian dessert, a dense cake made from nuts, fruit, and a sweet syrup

Vader grins when Atin comes back over to them, inviting them back to the vheh’yaim for dinner. He asks if Boba wants to come with them, squeezing Boba’s hand. Boba gives the clone a suspicious look before nodding.

They join Jango and the rest of the clones in the vheh’yaim, taking the pair of empty seats next to Jango as the clones talk, passing around dishes of food. Vader suggests a couple different dishes to Boba, plating up a little for himself before joining in on the conversation.

The dinner passes with Boba staying mostly silent, conversation ranging from bounties to battles to how some clones can stand to drink kri’gee while others insist ne’tra gal is the worst tasting one. Jango stands by tihaar, laughing.

They finally get to dessert, conversation turning to Kal Skirata as they pass around a plate filled with uj’alayi. Vader grabs one for himself and for Boba, setting one on Boba’s plate.

“Try it, it’s good.”

“What is it?” Boba breaks off the piece of the dense cake.

“It’s a cake. It has fruit and nuts, as well as spices, and it’s all held together with syrup.” Vader explains. Boba nods, taking a bite of the piece he’d pulled off.

“It’s very good.” Boba smiles slightly, taking another bite.

“See? Told you so.” Vader grins. “I can make it for you if you want.”

“You can do that?” Boba looks up.

“I can- I’m a man of many talents, after all.”

“I’d have to agree.” Boba smiles warmly at Vader. He’s still uncertain about all of the clones, but he knows he’s glad to be able to spend this time with Vader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kri'gee: a bitter Mandalorian ale
> 
> ne'tra gal: a sweet, dark Mandalorian ale
> 
> tihaar: a type of Mandalorian alcohol that's traditionally made from fruit and triple-distilled


	11. (shameless fluff, can totally be disregarded)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so sweet it might rot your teeth
> 
> (or at least as sweet as Boba and Vader can be)

Vader sat with Boba, the other man’s head in his lap as they watch the sun set on the horizon. Jango was still talking with the deserted troopers in Kyrimorut, so he and Boba had gone out of the stronghold to enjoy the sunset together. They sit on the shore of the lake just beyond Kyrimorut, and Vader eventually stops taking in the scenery, instead watching Boba.

It takes a moment for Boba to notice, turning to look up at Vader without moving from the bounty hunter’s lap.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing.” Vader shakes his head, looking back at the setting sun.

“Why were you watching me?”

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t have a reason?”

“No, but I would let it slide.” Boba rolls onto his side. Vader continues to watch the sky change colors, listening to noises from the shatauls and strills coming from deeper in the forests. When he slips his hand down to gently comb his fingers through Boba’s hair, the other man says nothing.

Vader knew their situation was hardly perfect, but settled on the beach with Boba he felt content, and he didn’t feel the need for more.


	12. Burcyan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burcyan: "frienship, a close bond"

Vader’s more than a little surprised when he wakes up to find Boba watching him. He’d kept sleeping in the ‘fresher after that first night, letting Boba have the copilot’s chair. That way if he has a nightmare Jango will be right there to help, and there’s no risk of getting burned by pipes.

He looks around, yawning. The lights are still off and he doesn’t hear Jango moving around, so he doubts it’s morning yet. He stifles another yawn, sitting up against the door of the shower stall.

“Boba? What time is it?”

“It’s early.”

“ _How_ early?” Vader frowns.

“Three hours before Jango wakes up.”

“It’s three in the morning? Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Nightmares again?” Vader asks, expression softening. He’d seen how bad those can get for Boba. Boba nods, shoulders dropping.

“I didn’t want to wake Jango. I already woke him up last night when I screamed.”

“It’s okay. Want something to drink?”

Boba nods, following Vader out of the ‘fresher. Vader brews up some spiced caf from the tin Jango kept. He hands Boba a mug once the drink is done, lifting his mask to take a sip of his own.

“Good?” he asks as Boba takes a long drink from the mug. Boba nods, leaning against the wall.

“Think you’ll be able to get back to sleep tonight?”

Boba shakes his head, sighing. “No. Not tonight.”

“That’s alright. I’ll stay up with you, we can wait for Jango together.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all.”


	13. Kyr'am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyr'am: "death"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this got so angsty and im not even sorry lmao

Vader pilots the Slave I as Jango paces. They’d only barely managed to escape the Empire alive, taking out as much of the troopers that had boarded as they could. He frowns when Jango starts to curse in Mando'a, fists clenched.

“Jango-”

“Don’t talk to me. Just fly. Just fucking fly.” Jango glares, and Vader sighs.

“Jango, sit down. Pacing isn’t going to help anything, we need to focus on getting Boba back.”

Jango stops, shoulders slumping. “We should’ve been better.”

“We weren’t expecting them, Jango.”

“We let our guard down. We’re bounty hunters, we should’ve been so much better for him.”

“We did what we could, and we’re going to get him back.”

* * *

Boba sobs, fighting against the straps holding him down. The spineray latched to his neck only makes all of the sensations worse. He feels like his body is on fire, and he retches. He wants it all to stop, but every time he fights it only gets worse.

Eventually he gives in, the pain gradually decreasing as he stops fighting against the creature linked to his neural system. He feels something detach it from his neck and he slumps against the table, muscles finally relaxing as the pain stops.

“Boba, what did you think you were doing? I was so scared for you when you disappeared.” Palpatine sighs, looking down at the trembling man. “Oh you poor boy, you’re home now.”

Boba shakes his head, letting out a weak, distressed noise. This isn’t his home, he wants to be back with Jango and Vader. He feels the spineray’s legs brush his neck and he cringes as it reattaches.

“I don’t think you quite understand, Boba. This is your home and it has been since Jango sold you to me all those years ago.”

* * *

Vader knows they might not get out of this alive. He has no idea how they’re going to even land without being noticed, but he knows they have to try. They can’t just abandon Boba.

Jango had started pacing again, trying to decide what weapons to take with him. Vader gives some suggestions as he prepares his own blasters.

“How are we going to pull this off, Jango?”

“I don’t know. Fuck if I know.” Jango shakes his head. Vader nods, checking the controls.

“We’ll figure it out.” Vader sighs. “How are we going at this? There’s no way we can just walk in there. It’s going to be crawling with troops.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

* * *

Boba doesn’t know how long he’s been in the cell. It’s cold, with no windows and no cot. He hasn’t been able to forget what his Master told him.

_“This is your home and it has been since Jango sold you to me…”_

Had his father really done that? It doesn’t seem right but…his Master never lied to him. There was always a reason for the instructions he was given. He remembers Zam- she’d been a traitor, she’d needed to die.

If Jango had done that, he must’ve had a reason. Boba can’t figure what it could be, though, and it hurts to think about. He tries to distract himself in the cell, but there’s nothing for him. He can’t even walk all the way across the room with his ankle shacked to the wall.

Sometimes his Master will visit him to talk with him. He’ll ask if Boba’s happy, if he misses Vader or Jango. If Boba’s answers are unsatisfactory, he’ll be taken out of the cell. Sometimes the spineray with be applied, other times it’s just a droid.

He’s starting to find that when he says he doesn’t miss the two bounty hunters he means it more and more.

* * *

Jango and Vader have started to lose hope. They’ve searched four bases, each time turning up empty handed. They’re having to avoid Imperial ships more and more.

There’s one secluded base that they find, one that has little to no real activity, and Vader suggests they search it. Jango sighs, shaking his head.

“It’s a stupid idea. We’ll be killed.”

“We survived every other time.”

“We haven’t found Boba.” Jango looks up at Vader.

“No, we haven’t.”

“He could be dead.” Jango turns his attention back to cleaning his gun. “For all we know he’s rotting away in a garbage chute on some shithole base.”

“He’s not. We’ll find him.”

“How do you know.”

“Just trust me on this one. No Imperial base should be this quiet. If he’s not here we can decide what to do, but we need to try this. He doesn’t deserve to be left behind.”

“You’re right.” Jango nods. “Let’s get this over with.”

* * *

Boba freezes when the door cell door opens. He’d heard alarms going off and he assumes this is some sort of test. Will he have to kill the person walking over to him. He watches the towering man closely as they walk over. He’s surprised when the man kneels down, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

“Boba, we need to go.” Vader squeezes Boba’s shoulder gently. He pulls a small saw to cut through the chain on Boba’s leg.

“Where are we going?” Boba asks as Vader sets to work cutting the chain.

“Back to the ship.”

“I can’t leave.”

“Boba, why not?” Vader glances up at Boba, frowning.

“I belong here. This is my home.”

“That’s a damn lie and you know it.” Vader scowls, finally severing the chain. “You’re Mando'ad. You’re a person.”

Boba just shakes his head, and Vader sighs, helping Boba to his feet.  
“I’ll argue this later. For now, I need you to trust me. We’re leaving here, you, me, and Jango. Alright?”

Boba nods, and Vader slips his arm around Boba to support him as they run back to their ship. Vader takes out the Imperial officers who try to get in their way with practiced ease. He’s glad they were finally able to find Boba.

Vader stops when he sees Jango come flying out of a room, slamming up against a wall and clawing at his neck. He’s bleeding heavily from two different wounds, Vader can tell Jango’s already weak.

“NO!” Vader yells, he can’t let Jango die. All of a sudden whatever was holding Jango releases him and Vader catches his friend before he can collapse.

“Boba, help me, we need to get him out of here.” Vader is careful of Jango’s wounds as he supports Jango, grateful when Boba steps in to help. They manage to make it out to the ship, Vader leaving Jango with Boba as he goes to pilot.

Jango pushes off his helmet, his breathing ragged. He wipes the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, not wanting to look like such a mess in front of his son. Boba had been through so much, Jango hates that he has to see him like this.

“I’m sorry, ad'ika.”

“For what?” Boba frowns, unsure of what to do. Part of him still wonders if his Master was telling the truth, but he can’t forget all the times Jango went out of his way to help him.

“If I’d been home, he never would’ve taken you.”

“It’s not… You’re here. You’re here, and you came for me.”

“We should’ve been faster.” Jango tries to sit up, wincing.

“Don’t worry about it. Just…just rest. Please. It’s okay.”

“Cuyir ures chaab. Gar Mando'ad.” Jango takes Boba’s hand. “I’m proud you’re my son.”

* * *

When Vader comes back out of the cockpit, Boba is kneeling next to Jango, clutching Jango’s hand. Vader can see Jango isn’t breathing and he walks over to kneel next to Boba.

Boba’s repeating the words “gedet'ye” and “motir laam,” not registering Vader’s presence until he starts to rub Boba’s back. He looks up at the other man, scared.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay. You should lay down, come with me?”

Boba nods, following Vader out to the cockpit and settling into the copilot’s chair. He lets Vader tuck a blanket around him, still shaky.

“Try to get some rest, Boba. I’ll be back in a little while.”

Once Boba nods Vader goes out and moves Jango’s body to a holding cell, stripping off the man’s armor. He’ll clean it and put it back in its usual storage compartment later. He sighs, looking down at the corpse. They’ll have a funeral at Kyrimorut and then he can figure out what to do. Things will work out. They always did.


	14. Kyramla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyramla: "fatal, deadly"

Vader lands the ship with ease, gently waking Boba up. He’s glad the man had been able to sleep for at least part of the trip. They walk out together, Vader asking Atin to stay with Boba while he explains what happened to the rest of the clones.

While Atin and Boba get something to eat, Vader and the rest of the clones get the corpse off of the ship. They discuss what to do for a funeral, if they should even _have_ a real funeral. Jango had never had much patience for somber, formal events.

They agree on a simple burial and a meal afterwards. It feels like too little to Vader, especially since Jango had bee Mand'alor, but he knows Jango would’ve been pissed at them all for only remembering the “shitty parts.”

* * *

The next day, Vader asks if Boba would like to come with them for Jango’s funeral. Boba nods, standing up from his cot, pulling on his father’s old poncho. It’s threadbare, with a couple of scorch marks on it from unexpected fights. Boba had taken it when they’d cleared out Jango’s things, along with a handful of other items he’d stowed under his cot.

Vader helps dig the grave outside, and he lowers the corpse into the ground. They all say a few words, Boba saying he wishes he’d been able to grow up on Kamino, that he’d had more time to get to know Jango. Vader squeezes Boba’s shoulder gently.

“Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.” Vader doesn’t try to fancy up the phrase, and he starts to fill in the grave.

“Will he have a gravestone?” Boba asks, watching as Jango’s corpse is covered by dirt.

“Yeah, we’ll make one for him later.” Vader nods. “He’d probably be disappointed that we didn’t burry him like any other warrior, but he _was_ Mand'alor. He gets special treatment.”

Boba smiles tiredly. “He didn’t seem like he’d want to be treated differently than anyone else.”

“True.” Vader nods. Once the grave’s filled in they rejoin the clones to share a meal. They all share memories, passing around tihaar. Vader knows things won’t be easy, but he’s going to try to keep going.

* * *

When asked at the funeral how they’d divide Jango’s armor Vader had said that it was all going to Boba. Now, Boba spends his days repainting it. One of the clones had explained to him the significance of the colors of Beskar'gam, and he’d chosen a new scheme for his armor.

“Adding more red?” Vader asks, carefully stepping around the pieces of drying armor.

“Yeah. I want it to have more.”

“It would’ve meant a lot to Jango to see your armor.”

“I want to honor him, even if I didn’t know him for long.” Boba nods. He picks up another armor segment and starts to paint it green.

“Duty?”

“To him. What he stood for. This is still his armor.”

“He’d appreciate that.”

“He said to live without fear. Before he died. I want to try to do that for him.” Boba nods, careful as he paints.

“I’ll do my best to help you with that.” Vader squeezes Boba’s shoulder.

“Thank you.” Boba sets aside the now-green piece of Beskar'gam and picks up another. He’s going to do what he can.

* * *

Boba never feels right in Jango’s armor. He feels like he’s unworthy to wear it, despite what Jango had said. He wasn’t really Mandalorian, was he? He’d done so many things…

It feels stifling in the armor, he always strips out of it as soon as he can. One day, as he’s shoving the armor back into his compartment he breaks down. His shoulders shake as he cries, holding one of the shoulder plates.

Vader walks over, kneeling down next to Boba. He gently takes the shoulder plate from Boba’s hand and places it in the compartment, gathering Boba into a hug.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Boba shakes his head, holding onto Vader’s shirt with one hand.

“That’s okay. Let’s leave this for now, I’ll make you something warm to drink. Okay?”

Boba nods, following Vader close. He still feels shaky, wishing the feeling would stop. He shouldn’t be this weak, he should be so much better. Especially for Jango. What kind of Mandalorian is he?

Vader hands Boba the mug of shig once it’s done steeping, leaning back against the counter. He lets Boba take his time drinking, giving him a few minutes before asking him what’s wrong.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s definitely something, Boba.” Vader crosses his arms. “It’s not like I can help if I don’t know what’s up.”

“It’s just a lot.” Boba looks down at the mug in his hands.

“You don’t need to be him, Boba. You’re different people.”

“I’m a clone. I _am_ him.”

“That’s a lie.” Vader shakes his head. “You’ve had a completely different life. You have your own memories and personality. You’re not him.”

Boba sighs, looking away. “He’d be disappointed. Kyrimorut should feel like home. It doesn’t. I’m no Mandalorian, I shouldn’t even have that armor. He should’ve been buried in it. It’s his, I have no right to it.”

“Ba'jur bal beskar'gam, ara'nov, aliit, Mando'a bal Mand'alor an vencuyan mhi.” Vader recites the old rhyme. Boba looks back up at him, frowning.

“I remember hearing that.”

“It’s the Resol’nare. ‘Education and armor, self-defense, our tribe, our language and our leader all help us survive.’” Vader nods. “You live by these, whether you realize it or not. You’re a Mandalorian, Boba. I’m sure next time we go to Manda’yaim you can get new armor, we’ve got enough for it. For now, don’t worry about trying to wear Jango’s.”

Boba nods, smiling tiredly. “Thank you.”

“I’m here for you. Do you want to know what Jango might say?” Vader asks, and after a moment Boba nods.

“Verd ori'shya beskar'gam.”

“So ‘just try to be myself,’ huh?”

“Pretty much. Don’t let this shit get to you. It’s hard, but we’re in it together.”

“I’ll try.” Boba nods, giving Vader a grateful look.

“You go relax, I’ll put away the rest of his armor.” Vader sets Boba’s empty mug on the counter.

“Thank you.”

“Any time.”


	15. CT-3119

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad: "I know your name as my child."

_Boba’s alone again, trapped back in the cell. His arms are shackled over his head, every time he struggles to get free it twists his shoulder, pulling at the cuts running down his back. He gives up, staring out into the darkness. He can hear someone breathing, but he can’t bring himself to call out. In the end, he doesn’t need to._

_A shape steps from the darkness, wearing the black robes of his Master. He can’t make out the face, but something tells him this isn’t Sidious. He wants to ask who the figure is, but all he manages is a choked, broken noise. His throat is raw from screaming, it aches whenever he breathes. The cloaked man moves closer, gripping Boba’s chin and turning his head to the side, inspecting him._

_“Look at you, CT-3119. You’re such a disappointment.” the figure speaks, voice smug. Boba freezes up- he knows that voice, he’s heard it so many times before but never like this. He tries to pull away from the figure but he can’t…_

_“I hoped you’d be better by now. I gave you away for a reason, and look at you- you’re just a failure. A copy with no worth to anyone.” the figure shakes his head sadly._

_“Buir?” Boba manages to choke out, trembling. The figure laughs, pushing off his hood. Jango has the same ugly gash on his face from when he’d died, but it had opened further and was oozing blood. Boba squeezes his eyes shut, pulling back as much as he can._

_“I may be your template but I’ll never be your father.”_

* * *

Vader rushes to Boba’s side, trying to wake the screaming man. Finally Boba’s eyes snap open and he starts to sob, looking around wildly.

“Where am I?” Boba asks, Vader’s wrist clutched tightly in his hand.

“We’re on the Slave I, you’re safe. Nobody’s here but us.” Vader rubs Boba’s shoulder gently. Boba looks around again, taking time to scan everything around him.

“I woke you up.”

“I don’t mind. You were having a nightmare, you nearly scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry…”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything.” Vader pulls his hand free of Boba’s grasp to lace their fingers together, squeezing gently. “What were you dreaming about?”

“Nothing…” Boba looks away. He doesn’t want to sully Jango’s memory. It was only a nightmare, right? None of it was true. Jango would never hurt him…

“Boba…” Vader frowns. “You can tell me. It’s not like I’ll laugh at you.”

“I just dreamed that I was hurt again.”

“By Sidious?” Vader asks. Boba just shrugs, and Vader squeezes his hand again.

“Why don’t we sit together? We can go back to sleep later.”

“You don’t have to stay up with me.” Boba sighs, rubbing his eyes.

“I know I don’t. I want to, though. Is that good with you?”

“Yeah. Please.” Boba smiles shakily.

“No problem. What should we talk about?”

“Jango. The good stuff, though. I want to know about the good stuff.”

Vader smiles warmly, nodding. “Why don’t I tell you about the time he was almost eaten by a Balyeg?”

“That sounds pretty funny.”

“Oh, trust me, it is.” Vader nods, starting to tell the story. He knows that whatever goes down, he’ll have Boba’s back, even if that just means telling him stories in the middle of the night.


	16. Nibral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nibral: "failure"

They go back to Manda’yaim as often as they can to visit the clones, and on their next visit Vader pays for Boba to get new beskar’gam. Boba asks for his armor to be red, gold, and green, just like before. When they go back to Kyrimorut from Keldabe, Boba asks Vader something.

“Should I try to clean the armor?”

“What?” Vader turns back to Boba, frowning a little.

“Jango’s armor. Should I try to clean off the paint so it’s blue and silver again?”

“Do whatever you want, Boba. I think Jango would be honored that you repainted his armor, though.” Vader shrugs.

“You do?”

“I do. You were his son, Boba, and seeing you in his armor would’ve meant the world to him.” Vader nods. Boba falls silent, and it’s a long while before he asks something again.

“Vader?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you like me?” Boba asks. He feels exhausted just thinking about it, but he’s wanted to know this since Jango’s death.

“What?” Vader frowns. “Why?”

“Are you just here because I remind you of Jango? Is this pity?”

“No, Boba-“

“-I don’t want pity.” Boba shakes his head. Vader frowns, taking Boba’s hand and squeezing gently.

“This isn’t pity.” Vader shakes his head.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s me, staying with you because I care about you. I care, and not because Jango was your father. You’re your own person.”

Boba sighs, pulling his hand away. “…Am I?”

“Yeah, you are. You’re an amazing person.”

“I don’t feel like it. I have a fucking serial number- how many actual people have  _those_?”

“A lot, Boba. It doesn’t make you any less human.”

“Yeah? Well, it doesn’t make me feel any better, either.” Boba crosses his arms.

“I know.”

“Do you?” Boba scowls, and Vader nods.

“I was a _slave_ , Boba. I’m not going to say I went through everything you went through, but I do know how hard it is to rebound when you don’t feel like a person.”

Boba starts to say something but decides against it, shutting his mouth. They’re almost back to Kyrimorut before Boba speaks again.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. It’s fine.”

“Still.”

“This shit’s hard, Boba, I get it. Really.” Vader shakes his head. “I’m not annoyed.”

“I should be better. Jango would be better.”

“Jango definitely wouldn’t have been better.” Vader smiles tiredly. “Do you want to know a secret about him?”

Boba gives Vader a wary look before nodding.

“He had nightmares about coming home to find you missing. Once a week at least, for about as long as I knew him. I’d find him nursing a glass of tihaar, sitting against the wall with one of the figurines he’d given you next to him. He was strong, sure, but that didn’t stop him from being human.”

“You’re serious?” Boba asks quietly. He’d never thought of Jango like that…

“I’m serious. He missed you every single day and he blamed himself for everything that happened. He thought he was a failure as a father.” Vader nods.

“…He wasn’t a failure.”

“Neither are you.”


	17. Udes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Udes: "rest, leisure."
> 
> The nightmares return.

The nightmares keep coming. There are nights when Boba sleeps fine, when he doesn’t dream of anything at all. Sometimes the nightmares are about Jango, other times it’s Sidious. The better nights are when it’s just voices- when Sidious whispers things to him about his purpose, how all he’d need to do is kill Vader. How easy it would be to just cut Vader’s throat and let him die right there in the pilot’s seat.

The worst times are when someone’s there in the dream. When he’s being punished for going soft, for not being the weapon he was built to be. When he wakes up screaming because that night it wasn’t Sidious, it was Jango, and Vader has to hold him while he sobs.

One night Vader isn’t there to comfort him, though, gone for the night on a bounty, and when Boba wakes up he grabs the old figurines, breaking them. When the door finally clicks open and Vader comes inside, he finds Boba staring down at the shattered figurines, still crying.

Boba lets Vader hold him, barely registering Vader’s voice as he tries to comfort Boba. He can’t stop hearing Jango’s voice in his head.

_“You’ll never be an individual, not even to Vader. You’re just another clone, just_ _CT-3119. You’ll never be good enough.”_

* * *

 

Vader starts to only pursue bounties during the day. It makes everything a hell of a lot harder, and he stops taking the more demanding bounties. They’re making less money, staying in Kyrimorut more, but at least he’s able to comfort Boba. He never asks Boba to talk about his dreams and Boba never tells him.

The pair of figurines had been fixed, Vader had glued them back together and set them back on the small shelf Boba usually kept them on. Boba had told Vader to keep them safe- he didn’t want to be responsible for damaging them again. They’d been important to Jango. Now, the small Mandalorian and ship are stowed away in a drawer with Vader’s clothes.

It becomes almost routine for them, sitting together in the middle of the night, Vader holding Boba close as he sobs. Boba starts to isolate himself, avoiding the clones as much as possible. He hates being reminded that he’s nothing but a copy. He’s not an individual. He’s not a _person_.

Boba is grateful for every break in their stay on Manda’yaim, going on each bounty with Vader. He didn’t like the proximity to Jango’s old armor, still stored away in a closet on the ship, but it was so much better than being stuck in his room in the vheh’yaim. The nightmares don’t stop even while they’re traveling, but they’re more manageable. At least on the Slave I he doesn’t have to wake up and see his father’s face.

It gets to the point where Boba starts to sleep on the Slave I even when they’re on Kyrimorut. He’ll slip out of bed while Vader’s asleep, always doing his best to sneak back before Vader ever wakes up. One morning he’s too late getting back, Vader’s already sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Were you out on the ship?”

Boba nods, getting out a new set of clothes. Vader sighs, standing up and walking over to Boba.

“Should we find somewhere else to live?” Vader gently takes Boba’s hand. Boba sighs, shoulders slumping, and he nods again.

“Please. I don’t think I can stay here anymore.”

“That’s alright.” Vader nods. “We can leave tonight.”

“Give Jango’s armor to one of them. I don’t want to have to look at it.”

“Of course.” Vader nods. “I’ll get the ship ready. Take time and relax.”

“Thank you.”

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, okay?”

“Thanks.” Boba nods, taking a couple deep breaths. Vader smiles tiredly and squeezes his hand gently.

“I’m here for you, Boba. Always.”


	18. Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader marches far away.

They still haven’t found anywhere to settle down. It’s been almost a month since they’d left Kyrimorut with no luck on finding a home. They agreed to avoid overpopulated planets, and anything too hot or too cold. Boba says that there’s no way he’s going back to Kamino, and Vader swears that he’d never make Boba return there.

The nightmares have started to lessen, leaving Boba with night upon night of dreamless sleep. He still feels exhausted whenever he wakes up, but at least he can sleep through the night now. Vader’s still worried about him, but he’s also glad that Boba isn’t waking up screaming.

They finally find an abandoned planet, one that feel right to Boba. He can’t put his finger on why, but he knows they won’t be found on the desolate world. It’s mountainous, covered in ruins and cold, but nowhere near as bad as Hoth or Scipio. The whole damn place makes Vader uncomfortable but he keeps his mouth shut. If this is where Boba wants to stay, it’s where they’ll stay.

They find a building that’s still mostly intact, Vader getting their things off of the ship. Boba wanders through the ruins, looking at all the carvings on the walls. They feel familiar, and he turns away from them to go back to Vader. Looking at the ruins in the walls had made him feel sick. He finds Vader clearing food and other supplies off of the ship, offering to help.

“You don’t need to.” Vader shakes his head. “Why don’t you set up the cots, though? We’ll need someplace to sleep.”

“Sure. I’ll help once I’m done with the cots.” Boba nods, going to start setting up the beds. When he finishes he’s grateful to get back to Vader’s side. Something about this place unnerves him when he’s alone. It’s not long before Vader notices how strange Boba’s acting, putting down the crate he’s carrying and offering Boba a hug. Boba relaxes against Vader’s chest, letting his eyes close. He trusts Vader.

“What’s going on, Boba?”

“It’s nothing.” Boba shakes his head.

“Really. Something’s wrong, you’ve been acting jumpy since we got here.”

“It’s…I don’t know what it is.”

“Should we leave?”

“Please.” Boba nods.

“Alright. Tomorrow morning we’ll pack everything up and head out.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s never a problem.”

* * *

When the sun starts to set Vader prepares dinner, cooking over a fire with Boba sitting next to him. They eat and talk, Vader keeping his arm around Boba’s shoulders. Boba’s grateful for the contact, listening as Vader tells him about bounties and battles.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.” Boba says under his breath as Vader goes to set the dirty dishes aside. He’s surprised when Vader laughs, glancing back over his shoulder.

“I love you too, Boba.”

They push the cots together before going to bed, curling up together. Vader smiles gently when Boba kisses his cheek.

“Nuhoy jate, cyar’ika.” he curls closer to Boba. Boba smiles warmly, his first genuine smile in a long time.

“Thank you, for being so accommodating.”

“It’s nothing, Boba. You mean a lot to me.”

“Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Boba.”

* * *

_Everything is cold, he’s freezing, and he can feel eyes on him. Someone is laying before him, he can see their chest rise and fall. He knows what he’s supposed to do, the knife in his hand glints, yet he can’t bring himself to make use of the blade._

_“Come now, CT-3119. Do what you were always made to do.” says an all-too-familiar voice. He wants to resist, some part of his mind whispering that Sidious is dead, that he has no power._

_“Oh, but that’s a lie. You and I both know it, my prized tool. How long have I been pulling the strings. Now, do what you’re here to do. Complete your mission.”_

_“Please.” Boba manages, knuckles white from clenching the hilt of the blade._

_“Do it.” the voice is cold, angry. Boba flinches, he knows that tone, he doesn’t want to do anything to upset his Master more. He’s on a mission, that’s all this is, a mission like any other. He kneels close to the figure, taking the knife and slicing cleanly through their throat. He has to close his eyes, watching the blood flow makes him feel sick._

_He barely registers the voice of his Master praising him, the gurgling noises drown everything else out._

Boba doesn’t know what he’s staring at. Everything sounds muffled, and it’s so dark. There’s something caked under his nails, it feels tacky as it dries, and when he tries to clean it out he finally realizes what it is. Blood, he has blood under his nails and. there’s blood on the blankets, soaking through the cot, blood pooling around Vader.

There are gashes all across Vader’s throat, shiny with blood. His chest isn’t moving at all. Boba watches, shivering, silent. He want’s to do something, anything. He tears a strip off of the thin blanket, bunching it up and pressing it to the wound. All it does is make the gashes a little more defined when he pulls the bloody cloth away.

“Cyar’ika?” he asks, voice shaky as he touches Vader’s cheek.

Nothing is said in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew, this was fun to write. hope you guys enjoyed reading it!


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